Life With A Fisherman

For the next two years, just about every waking moment was spent with Captain Ben. The things I learned from that man about the sea were unbelievable. By the time I was 12 years old, I truly was a sea captain.

One night, Captain Ben came riding in on his old horse. He was yelling, “The yellowfin are here!” I had already known that the tuna were here because Dad was out with the crew about 100 miles offshore. They had sailed out to what was called the canyons. “Let’s go fishing in the morning, Cappy,” he yelled. Mom came right out of the house, saying “No, no, no, Captain Ben. That’s too far out to sea for young Cappy.” He said, “Oh no, we are going to Chatham to the islands. I know a tuna place there. It’s only a one-day trip out and back the same night. We will fish from Salty with our rods, not nets.” Mom smiled and went back into the house, telling Captain Ben to have me back for dinner. “Meet me in the morning, young Captain Cappy,” he shouted as he rode off.

We sailed off to the Block Islands that fine morning. The sun was just coming up as we left the bluff harbor. It took us about three hours of nonstop winds to reach this spot. As we arrived, the captain had an ear-to-ear grin on his old face. The fish were jumping all around us. This was my first time fishing tuna, and I hadn’t any idea how it was done. I’d herd Dad and the sailors talk about how they lay the nets for the fish, but we had no nets. We had two poles with big open reels and a harpoon that I helped make some weeks ago. I could see how Dad would do it here with the nets. The fish were everywhere. He would lay the nets and drag them in fish and all. Captain Ben whispered, “Young Cappy, let’s be very quiet here. These tuna are smart.” We sailed slowly to the edge of the school of tuna, and while I was doing that, he tied a big long lure on the line of the pole. It was a green lure with silver paint on its bottom and had three big treble hooks attached to it. He cast out behind Salty and said to drift us through the school and zigzag as we go. He sat in the back with his back to me. He was facing the fish. About halfway through the school, down went the tip of the pole. He pulled up very sharply, “Got yaw,” he said and started reeling in the tuna. “When I get him in the side of the boat, ’poon him! Grab the harpoon, Cappy.” He was so excited. I’ll never forget that day.

The tuna was at the side of Salty, and I stuck the harpoon into the fish and pulled it into the boat. “Your turn,” he said with a smile as he turned Salty back into the school. “Now when he hits, play him the same as I did.” We drifted through the tuna and — wham! — my pole went down. I pulled up on it and started pulling in my caught. The captain pulled it in the boat as it came about. This was the time of my life “Wow, these fish are big,” I yelled. The fish were about 30 pounds each. And to me, they where huge. But Captain Ben shouted, “These ones are nice but small.” I remember thinking, “Small? They’re huge!” It was about 11:00 in the morning, and we had nine real nice tuna in the boat. “One more,” Captain Ben said. “one more for the smoker. It’s your turn, young captain. Take the pole.”

The bottom of Salty was full of tuna. As we brought them in the boat, he would take their gills out, saying we have to get rid of the gills so they don’t spoil. The little boat Salty was coming around just off to the left of the school of fish. I had a firm grip on the pole and could feel the lure working. The drag was set loose, and I was ready for another fish. Then — wham! — the tip of my pole went down, and the reel started spinning really fast. I did all I could do to pull that pole up. “It’s a nice one,” I yelled. The captain kept yelling, “Play that fish!” Then about 100 feet behind Salty, that tuna came out of the water spinning. It was a very big tuna. Captain Ben shouted, “He’s trying to spin the lure from his mouth. Keep the line tight. Play him.” I would reel him in, and as soon as he would see the boat, the fish would turn from us. I played that fish for over an hour before it started tiring. “Don’t let him rest,” the captain shouted. That fish was pulling our boat at one point. My arms were getting weak, but it was getting more tired than I was. I was winning the battle between tuna and man. I started reeling him in for the final time, finally there was little fight left. “Keep the line tight, Cappy, and bring him in next to the boat,” Captain Ben yelled. I looked over my shoulder, and he was standing in the boat with his harpoon ready. The fish came to the side of the boat, and that old man threw that harpoon into the fish with all he had. “Yeee, we got ’em!” the captain shouted. “He’s a 300-hundred pounder.” I looked at my tuna and couldn’t believe my eyes. That fish was almost as long as Salty. It was a catch of a lifetime. I was so excited I couldn’t speak.

“Eyeee, we have our work cut out with this one,” Captain Ben said with a low voice. There was no way that fish was going to fit in the boat. “Get his gills out. We don’t want this fish to spoil,” he said. And try not to spill any blood. We don’t want sharks coming after our boat. There’s enough blood coming from the harpoon hole, and we don’t want any more.” We had to tie the fish to the side of the boat. We piled the other tuna to the opposite side of Salty to try to balance our load. I looked at the horizon to our south and saw very dark clouds coming in. We were three hours from Martha’s Vineyard. The captain yelled, “We must move swiftly. There’s a bad storm following us in.” We set sail and plotted course for home. The storm moved in on us fast. The flat sea turned into six-foot waves with white caps braking all around us. The winds started blowing 30- to 40-miles per hour. The water was coming in all over us. We were being tossed from side to side like a leaf in a raging river. Salty was filling with water. “Bail her out!” Captain Ben yelled as he took the sails. He saw the fear in my face and said, “We will be all right. Salty has seen worse than this.”

I just kept bailing, trying to keep up with the ocean that was coming in faster than I could bail. About two hours went by, and I looked behind us. I saw a fin. A big fin. Then it was gone. I thought I was seeing things for a moment, but there it was again. “Shark!” I yelled. The captain looked off the back of Salty. The shark was coming at us fast, and the storm was hitting us from all sides. “He wants your tuna!” Captain Ben yelled. The shark was 10 feet from us and closing. “Cappy, take your knife and cut up one of the tuna.” He had a firm grip on the sails and couldn’t let go. I quickly cut one of our fish up into chunks and threw it off the side of the boat. It worked. The shark got the taste he was after. “You’ll not get this one,” Captain Ben yelled. I watched that shark eating the fish I had thrown over as it disappeared from my sight. I learned to ride a storm that day with waves breaking over the boat. We reached the Edgartown harbor as the storm let up. We spent six hours fighting that storm to get back on the island. A day that has never been forgotten. We pulled up to the weight dock with our tuna. People came from all over the island to see this magnificent fish. It was the catch of the decade. We pulled the tuna up on the scale, and it weighed in at 385 pounds. That fish went to market, and the others we caught went to the smoker.